The artists talk
I returned to Scarborough a week later, full of renewed trepidation about my talk. I hadn’t had time to think about it as the last few days of the school term had taken over my brain (remembering which of my daughters needs money for trips, party food, non-uniform days, leavers assembly blah blah and simultaneously completing paperwork for two schools I have been working with in Hull by end of term). My artists talk had receded into the background for a week and now it was suddenly happening… I’ve been thinking around the issue for months, but never drawing any conclusions about how to tackle it. The night before I travelled to Scarborough, amidst organising appointments for daughters to visit old friends in Scarb I realised there was one easy way to remember what it’s all about – scour my blog for clues. That helped. A bit.
In the end I met my mum and dad in the coffee lounge at 11am, handed over the daughters to their care, resisted the temptation to internally agitate about my dad’s silent frown as he looked at the honey dripping in the wardrobe, tried and failed to concentrate on his optimistic note in the comments book (‘you’ll be famous one day Rach), and spent an hour with a pen and scrap of paper making a few notes.
Plenty of people turned up, and pleasingly there were only a couple of friends and supporters – the rest were independently interested! I decided to do what I do on the blog – illuminate the context for the work, rather than try to explain the work itself. So a few autobiographical anecdotes later, we were all involved in a fascinating discussion about the piece, and most of the comments resonated strongly with my feelings about it. I was elated. Equally importantly, I had, once again talked about my work without talking about my work, and everyone agreed it was the best plan!
